


Ever waiting

by Elisexyz



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: (Or is it?), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Pining, Post-Episode: s07e16 Goodbye, Reunions, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25645711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: Harvey dreams of him, sometimes.
Relationships: Mike Ross/Harvey Specter
Comments: 26
Kudos: 81





	Ever waiting

**Author's Note:**

> I found this buried in my pc (I probably wrote it while season 8 was hiring), and I thought I'd share. Enjoy!

Harvey dreams of him, sometimes.

It’s always the same thing in a different hat, hugs and bright smiles, Mike reappearing with various excuses that Harvey barely bothers to pay attention to, tears burning in his eyes and his cheeks hurting with how wide he’s grinning.

(Often, when Mike pulls back, Harvey snorts, mutters ‘Come back here’ and hugs him again, because he’s _there_ and letting him go feels worse than abandoning his composure.)

(He doesn’t know that he’s dreaming, but somehow he doesn’t fear rejection all that much. Maybe it’s the way Mike stares at him, bright blue eyes full of adoration.)

Harvey dreams of him, and when he wakes up he thinks of calling. Sometimes he texts, and it often goes unanswered.

(Mike always answered, at first. Then it started taking days. Then sometimes he ignored him completely.)

Sometimes, he does call.

It’s usually at the end of the day, when he’s worn out, dropping on the couch with a loose tie still around his neck and wondering how bad it’d be for his back if he were to fall asleep right then and there, and he can tell himself that he’s just calling because it’s too good a story, that a text wouldn’t do it justice, that it’s too long to type and it’s just easier this way.

(Truth be told, he just needs to hear Mike’s voice. He might be starting to forget how that sounded like.)

(It generally goes to voicemail.)

Harvey can take a hint.

He isn’t stupid: if someone generally ignores your texts and is short when answering, if someone dodges your calls and quickly texts ‘Sorry, very busy, talk to you soon’ and then never reappears again, it’s generally a reliable sign that they don’t _want_ to talk to you.

It’s fine.

(It’s not, he might just throw up.)

The problem is—the problem with this is that a long-distance relationship is difficult to maintain with someone when everything was built around being joined at the hip.

For as long as he’s known him, Mike has been by his side, first as his associate, then more as a partner. They rarely used to call, or text, because they were usually together. The closest to this situation that they ever came to was when Mike was in prison, but even then Harvey wasn’t shy about wearing out his attorney privileges, and when he wasn’t visiting he was still fighting like hell to get him _out_.

(In a way, he was always with him.)

Now, Harvey is stuck in a routine that is supposed to have Mike in it and just _doesn’t_. Just like that. He isn’t sure how everything is still spinning: it’s like the world has found a new footing and Harvey has yet to catch up.

(He will, eventually. He usually does.)

Sometimes he gets pissed: Mike dropped him at the first occasion, flew to Seattle, and then decided that even answering the goddamn phone was too much. After everything that they’ve been through together, after everything that Harvey put on the line for him, after the way he struggled to _keep_ him—Mike still left.

Harvey can’t for the life of him understand how someone could take and give so much, and then disappear without a care in the world.

(If he’s being honest, it isn’t surprising. Harvey probably just poured more of himself into this than he should have. Mike eventually looked at his life, decided that Rachel was the only thing he truly needed, and got rid of the unnecessary. It’s kind of pathetic that Harvey can’t even properly hate him for it.)

He is not one for daydreaming, but sometimes he allows himself a bit of self-indulgence.

His birthday nears, and he imagines opening the door to Mike, all bright smiles and no present at hand, chiming: “You didn’t think I’d miss this, did you?”

There are hugs, like in his dreams, tears prickling at his eyes, and an overwhelming sense of joy that he hasn’t felt in too long.

(Mike calls, for his birthday. His voice sounds gruffer than Harvey remembered, and he almost asks if he’s coming up with a cold. They talk for about twenty minutes, and it’s way too short but still enough to make Harvey’s chest explode into flames and his throat close up with a lump that doesn’t leave him all day.)

(It’s definitely better than the Christmas card that Rachel clearly wrote on her own.)

(The next year, it’s a text, almost an afterthought, and Harvey’s reply to it goes unanswered.)

Three years, and Harvey still dreams of him.

There are a few texts, less voicemails, and he thinks he’s starting to make his peace with it.

(Or maybe he isn’t, because every time he hugs him in his sleep, feeling too painfully _whole_ and never wanting to let go, he wakes with tears pushing behind his eyes and his fingers itching with the need to buy the first ticket to Seattle.)

(Except Mike doesn’t care to see him, and he isn’t looking forward to the in-person version of dodging someone’s call. Harvey can take a hint.)

Mike shows up on his doorstep one day, but he isn’t smiling.

Harvey stands frozen for a moment, wondering if he is seeing things and perhaps he shouldn’t have had an apple for dinner just because he didn’t feel like cooking a thing and he already had take-out for lunch.

(Well, as far as hallucinations go, it could be worse.)

“Hi,” Mike says, hesitant, offering a weak excuse of a smile and looking every bit as tired as Harvey feels.

Harvey hardly resists the urge to reach out, to make sure that he’s real.

(Or just to _hold_ him, the way he can clearly see himself doing in his head.)

“Mike,” he replies instead, careful, his breath itching as everything seems to sit still. It doesn’t feel quite real. “What are you doing here?”

Mike snorts, shaking his head slightly. “I—believe I was overdue for a visit?” he tries, looking back up to him with barely concealed fear of rejection in his eyes.

Harvey wants to laugh, because he doesn’t think he could slam the door in his face if he wanted to.

(He _should_ want to.)

“You could have called,” he points out, with a little more bite than he intended.

(He could have called at _some_ point. Any point. Why didn’t he?)

(Maybe he _is_ a little pissed.)

Mike shrugs, shifts his weight from one foot to the other, presses his lips together.

Harvey’s fingers twitch around the doorframe, and he just wants to hug him once again.

(How much of a pathetic idiot he is.)

He stares, and it’s painfully uncomfortable, disappointedly different from the way he’s always pictured this.

(That’s why daydreaming doesn’t do anyone any good.)

“Come on in,” he offers, stepping aside and holding his breath as Mike slides in like he’s done too many times to count, and damn him if he doesn’t feel like laughing and crying all at once.

There he stands, ready to get stomped over by Mike once again, if that’s what it takes to revel in him a little more. He never learned how to push him away.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates comments, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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